Grinders
by thatTaylorgirl
Summary: Nick and Grissom investigate the murder of one teen and the kidnapping of another. final chapter up
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Nick and Grissom tackle the investigation of a teens murder and another's kidnapping. Both struggle to keep their emotions in check.

**Disclaimer:** The story may be original, but the characters are not! CSI was not my brainchild, though I'd love to come up with such a successful idea!

**Note:** This chapter is just a set up for the story line. I'm seeing this story being pretty science based, as well as a dive into the inner psyche of Nick. I don't know yet where this story is going, so stick with me! Let me know some reactions, ideas, etc. Thanks!

_The air was thick with humidity from the late afternoon rain. The late July sun was setting over the skate park. It wasn't anything unusual to see the two fifteen year olds burning the wheels of their boards until the park shut down. Today they were working on new tricks for the weekend tournament. They were hoping to lead their team to the finals this year. Skaters came to Vegas from all over the country for this tournament every year. This year, the boys had added a new element to their run. The two did their best on individual vert ramp, but killed the competition in the new tag-team street course elements._

_"Hey, Jason, let's call it a night, man. I'm beat," Christian said as his skate partner continued to grind. "My old man's gonna kill me if it's dark before I get home," he said taking off his helmet and pads. "Dude, you'll get that 900 tomorrow."_

_"I should be nailing it by now," Jason said coming to a stop at the bottom of the vert. ramp. "The tournament's this weekend."_

_"Man, what are you so worried about?" Christian asked putting on his backpack. "You're the best skater on our team, not to mention the best in our age bracket."_

_"Yeah, if I don't get that 900 before the tournament, you'll be the best," he said punching his friend in the arm. The two kids continued the friendly banter as they started their walk home. It was just after nine o'clock._

"You pulled out the scientist card again?" Nick asked with a chuckle as he and Warrick walked into the locker room of the crime lab.

"Hey man, it worked. I got her number," the criminalist smiled as he proceeded to change his shirt.

"Did you remember to take it out of your pocket this time? Remember the last time you got a girl's number," he laughed remembering the incident. Warrick had left it in his pocket and washed it with his dirty laundry the next day.

"Oh yeah," he said with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, I didn't lose that number, remember? I _am_ the man after all," he smiled as he holstered his gun.

"Yeah, you're the mack-daddy of CSI," Nick laughed changing his own shirt.

"Hey, guys. Nice," Sara Sidle smiled as she made her way into the locker room. "Have you been working out, Nick," she laughed a little.

"Hey now, that's sexual harassment," Nick said buttoning his shirt, a slight blush in his cheeks.

"It's not my fault we only have one locker room," she smiled raising her hands in defense. "At least I didn't slap you on the butt," she smirked.

"Hey, Sarah I need you for a minute," Catharine said stopping quickly at the locker room door then making her way on down the hall toward the evidence room.

"Yeah, okay," she responded quickly putting her bag in her locker and following the other CSI down the corridor.

"So you guys had dinner?" Nick asked as he proceeded to check the magazine clip of his Glock and holster the pistol.

"Oh man, she was a dime," Warrick chuckled as he pulled on his CSI vest. "We're supposed to have dinner next week," he nodded.

"Smooth, man," Nick laughed as he pulled on his own vest. "Smooth," he nodded as the two exited the locker room and made their way to the break room. They still had a few minutes before Grissom would begin looking for them with his assignments for the night.

"Greggo!" the men said in unison as they entered the brightly lit room. Nick made a bee line for the coffee. He found it most effective to get a caffeine kick to jumpstart each shift. Sarah and Catharine soon found their way into room.

"Hey guys," the younger CSI said glancing up from his book.

"Whatcha reading?" Nick asked taking a seat next to the kid on the couch.

"Alright guys," Grissom said as he breezed into the break room, not giving Greg the opportunity to answer. He was early tonight. "We've got a busy night. We're getting backwash from dayshift. The new supervisor Ecklie hired can't seem to keep up with the Joneses," he shrugged with a shake of his head. "Sarah, you and Catharine take the 419 at the Monte Carlo. Warrick and Greg you guys get the B&E at an art gallery. Nick, you're with me. We've got a DB of our own at Durango Hills Park," he finished handing the assignment slips out.

"The skate park, huh?" Nick said taking a look at the assignment slip. He was already making his way to the door. "I'll meet you at the car," he nodded walking past his boss. He took a glance at his watch as he grabbed his field kit and headed to Denali, 11: 01. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** Thanks for the reviews! Here's a new chapter! Keep the reviews coming!

The air had quickly turned cool as the sun had set. The cool breeze had felt refreshing during the forty minutes it took to drive to the crime scene, but as Nick pulled into the parking lot, the chill took on a new meaning. It was the feeling of almost every crime scene he approached, enhanced now by the dropping nighttime temperatures. All his years in Vegas, he still couldn't get used to the desert chill, it just seemed unnatural.

Grissom got out of the Denali and grabbed his field kit from the back seat. "Why don't you start with the photos," he said as Nick joined him around the front of the vehicle, his own field kit in hand. "I'll take the body."

Nick only nodded as he approached the taped off scene. Lights from the skate park help illuminate the grassy null where the body lay. "Hey Super Dave," the criminalist said to the assistant coroner, David Phillips, as he placed his kit on the ground and began his preliminary investigation of the scene. He and Grissom were joined by Detective Jim Brass.

The body was that of a teenage boy. He lay face down on the ground. His blonde hair was matted to his head as a result of the blood from a head wound; his backpack was still on his back.

"The vic's name is Jason Parks," Brass started handing a wallet to Grissom as they approached the body.

"Liver temp is 84 degrees. He's been dead less than two hours. He's suffered a blunt force trauma to the head. It's an unusual wound pattern," Dave said from his position next to the body.

"Okay," Grissom nodded, continuing to observe the corpse, he had crouched down now to get a better look at the head wound. "Thanks, David. I'd like to keep the body here just for a while longer."

"Sure," the young man nodded. He continued to jot down notes on the clipboard in his hand.

"I don't see any blood spatter," Nick said from behind the senior CSI as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He shone his flashlight around the immediate surrounding area of the body. Jim stood off to the side allowing the CSIs to do their jobs.

"First hit's free," Grissom nodded.

"Any idea what the killer used?" Brass asked from the sidelines.

"Won't know for sure till we get him to autopsy," Grissom said pulling on his own pair of gloves.

Nick shot several photos of the body before he wondered off.

"I've got a blood trail," he said crouching down on the footpath leading to the parking lot. "Looks like it's leading to the parking lot," he said laying down evidence markers at each distinctive blood spot. After snapping several shots with the camera he pulled out a cotton swab and took a sample of the blood drops. "I'll get this to DNA."

He continued to follow the blood trail, using his Maglite as the light dwindled toward the parking lot. The trail ended abruptly at the end of the sidewalk and the start of the asphalt parking lot.

It was then that Nick noticed tire treads. Not hesitating, he marked the treads with a numbered marker and snapped more photos. Tire treads were Warrick's specialty, but Nick could tell just by the look of the marks that they were left by a large vehicle, possibly an SUV. He'd have to run the treads through the computer to get the exact model, and even that would prove to be useless without some kind of witness account to narrow the field.

"Hey, Jim have we got any witnesses?" Nick asked the detective as he came back to the primary scene.

"I talked to a couple of kids who said they saw a black SUV leave the parking lot about an hour and a half ago. A girl and her boyfriend were walking through the park on their way home when they heard some screaming and they stumbled upon the body. That's when they said they heard tires squeal and they saw the SUV leaving the parking lot," he said taking a look at his notes.

"Well, I found some tread marks that may back that up," he pointed toward the lot. "Did you get a make or model?"

"The kids couldn't give me any specifics," the detective shook his head. "They're both right over there," the squat man pointed on the other side of the crime scene tape.

"Alright," the CSI nodded glancing toward the two squad cars parked with their flashing red and blue lights. "Hey Griss, anything?" he asked rejoining his supervisor.

"I found some wood splinters in the head wound," he said examining the evidence in his forceps.

"I'll get them to trace," he nodded.

"I also gathered some gray fibers and a couple hairs," he continued, but the younger CSI hadn't heard him. Something had caught the criminalist's attention off to the left of the body, near a small grouping of trees.

"Hey Griss, what do you make of this?" he asked over his shoulder as he shone his flashlight on the ground. There on the ground was a small pile of shells. "What are these, sunflower seeds?" Nick asked picking up a shell with his tweezers to get a better look.

"Bag them up," Grissom said as he gazed up into the tree.

"You think the killer sat in waiting?" Nick asked shining his light up into the tree. It was definitely a good climbing tree.

"If the victim was coming from the street course over there," Grissom pointed across the park yard, "this tree would be in the direct foot path to the parking lot."

"Give me a boost," Nick said putting his mini-maglite in its designated pocket in his vest.

"What?"

"There could be evidence in the tree. Give me a boost," he said lacing his fingers together to demonstrate what he meant. "If I climb it on my own, I'll destroy the evidence."

Reluctantly, Grissom hoisted the younger CSI up to examine the lower branches of the tree.

"I've got some fibers," Nick said, "and…" he trailed off as he made his way back to the ground, "I've got the bag of sunflower seeds," he smiled. A small smile tickled the corner of Grissom's mouth.

"Good job," he nodded as Nick crouched down and proceeded to gather the rest of the discarded shells.

"You know, the killer would have perfect cover up there, especially if the sun was setting," Nick nodded as he returned to an upright standing position. "What do you think?" he asked his boss.

Grissom's mind began to wander, playing out the possibility of events that could have happened.

_The sun was setting; it was getting late. The boy was tired; it was getting harder to keep up the rigorous tempo on the vert ramp. The teenager started packing his gear in his backpack already planning his practice routine for the next day. He slowly started to make his way across the park toward home. He hoped his dad had gotten home by now and had dinner ready. As he passed the clump of trees, he noticed the sound of cracking branches as somebody jumped down behind him. Everything went black with the sickening sound of cracking wood._

"Hey guys, I've got something you might want to hear," Brass said joining the two CSIs under the tree. "We've got a missing person's report. Some guy called the police when his son didn't make it home. He was supposed to be at this park practicing for a skate-off this weekend with his friend. Get this, his friend is our vic." Was that a glimmer in his eye?

"So we're looking for a second kid? What, was he kidnapped?" Nick asked.

"The father said he got a call from someone demanding a 50,000 dollar ransom," he nodded.

"Who's this second kid?" Grissom asked.

"Christian Shroll."

"Shroll… as in Judge Shroll?" Grissom asked incredulously.

"One and the same," Brass nodded. "Christian Shroll is the fifteen year old son of Judge Andrew Shroll."

"Well, this is something I haven't felt in a while," Grissom said looking off toward the dark parking lot, taking a mental inventory of their evidence. It wasn't much.

"What's that?" Nick asked.

"Helpless."

It was now 12:30 in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** Once I got this chapter running, it kinda took me with it. I'm not gonna be around to post a new chapter until early next week! Hope this will get you through the weekend! Thanks for the comments! Keep them coming!

"So, where are we?" Grissom asked leaning back in the chair behind his desk. It was nearing the middle of their shift. Nick was leaning against the door jam, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Mia is processing the blood I collected from the sidewalk. I gave her the sunflower shells and the package we found in the tree," he started. "I gave the fibers and wood fragments to Hodges."

"It's not much."

"At least it's not nothing," he was always optimistic. "I was about to begin processing the tire treads, hopefully we can get a make on the SUV the kids say they saw," Nick shrugged. He had to agree there wasn't much evidence to work with. He stood quiet for a minute, thinking. "You know, there was a 24-hour market across the street from the parking lot. Maybe our killer bought his sunflower seeds."

"A little afternoon snack before an evening murder?" Grissom asked with raised eyebrows. His glasses hung loosely in his right hand, his elbow resting on his desk as he leaned forward.

"Most markets around here have surveillance," he nodded. "I'll drive over there and see what I can find out," Nick said. "Maybe I'll do another run of the crime scene while I'm over there," he shrugged. "Maybe we missed something."

"It couldn't hurt. Get Brass to go with you," the supervisor nodded as he began to tackle the stack of papers collected on his desk.

"Will do," he nodded leaving the man's office.

Nick made his way through the hallways of the crime lab, hoping to find Brass before he made it all the way to the detective's office. He was lucky. Just as he stepped out of the locker room, he practically ran over the older man.

"Hey, Nicky. What's going on?"

"I was just looking for you," he said zipping up his CSI vest and putting on his Forensics ball cap.

"In the CSI locker room?"

"I was on my way to your office. Care to join me? I need to make a run to the market," he smiled.

"Sure. I do love a good intrigue," Brass smiled as he followed the CSI to the Denali.

Fifteen minutes later the two were stuck in heavy traffic. It wasn't unusual for Vegas to be active at all hours of the night. It would take them a while to get to their destination.

"So, you've got a chocolate craving? Is this a late night snack run?" Brass asked from the passenger seat.

"No," Nick laughed, flashing is 100 watt smile. "I just remembered there was a 24-hour market across the street from the skate park. I'm hoping to get some surveillance footage. Maybe our killer bought his sunflower seeds there today," he shrugged.

"Guess it's worth a shot," the man shrugged. "If we can get around this traffic." The man could never stand to be held up more than a couple minutes. Nick was grateful for the distraction as the man's cell phone rang.

"Brass," the man answered on the second ring.

Nick busied himself with his driving, weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic, hoping to cut some time off the already lengthy commute across town.

"Yeah, I got it," the man continued into his phone. "Have them bring it to the crime lab," he finished hanging up.

"What was that about?" the criminalist asked.

"We got a copy of the voice mail sent to the judge's cell phone."

"Well, maybe we're getting somewhere," he said finally weaving the Denali onto an open street.

Half an hour later the men pulled into a parking spot outside the super market. The lot was nearly deserted, save for three cars and a delivery truck. Nick noticed a camera in clear view at the main entrance, positioned directly over the parking lot. Another camera was positioned directly inside the door focused toward the rows of cash registers.

There was only one cashier working at this time of night. Several stockmen worked at stacking the shelves with canned goods. The midnight manager, a young man most likely in his twenties, was busied himself counting money behind the customer service desk. The two men made their way to the counter.

"How may I help you gentlemen?" the manager asked, nervously spotting the detectives pocket badge.

"Hi there, Chip," the detective smiled noticing the managers name tag. "I'm Detective Jim Brass; this is Nick Stokes of the Crime Lab. We'd like to ask you a couple questions."

"Sure," the kid nodded obviously nervous. "What about?"

"We're investigating the murder of a teenager at the skate park across the street," Nick started. "We were hoping you could give us copies of your surveillance tapes from this afternoon."

"Uh, a murder, huh? Wh-why do you think our tapes will help?" he was still nervous. It almost made Nick want to smile.

"Well, we have reason to believe our suspect could have bought some sunflower seeds from here earlier today," Nick explained.

"Well, only three of our five cameras work," the kid said motioning for the two men to follow him into the back office. He nervously glanced behind him to make sure the two were following him. "The camera trained on the loading dock out back went kaput a week ago. We haven't had time to get it repaired, yet. But, the front door, freezer, produce section, and the parking lot cameras are all working."

"We're going to need those tapes," Nick nodded as the kid began to eject the VHS tapes from their designated VCRs.

"Sure," he nodded handing the videos to the criminalist. "This is all of them," he said. His hands were shaking.

"You okay there sport?" Nick asked giving a quick glance toward the detective. "You seem a little edgy."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm just a little nervous is all," he shrugged.

"What is there to be nervous about?" Brass asked, his suspicions rising.

"This is the first time I've been on night shift," he shrugged. "It's also the first time I've been questioned by cops for anything."

"Well, hey now, there's nothing to be worried about," Nick grinned trying to put the kid at ease. "When do you normally work?"

"Uh, afternoons. I usually come in around three and work until 11."

"So, who took your normal shift today?" Brass asked.

"Um, Trey Davis," he responded. "He and I switched shifts today. He said he had plans tonight."

"What kind of plans could a person have at this time of night?" Nick asked the detective.

"We're going to need to talk to him," Brass said with a nod. "You wouldn't have a number we could use to get a hold of Trey would you?"

"Yeah," he nodded sifting through the Rolodex on the office desk. "Here it is," he smiled handing the criminalist a business card from the file.

"You wouldn't happen to have a record of who worked today either would you? Maybe a list of cashiers that clocked in," Nick asked.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have to print that off the computer. That could take a few minutes," the kid nodded.

"We're not going anywhere," Brass smiled as he and Nick followed the manager back out toward the customer service desk.

Ten minutes later they were walking back to the Denali with the videos and lists of employees.

"So you think there's anything probative on those things?" Brass asked skeptically.

"I'll know more when I look through them," Nick shrugged. "Hey, are you in a rush to do anything?" he asked taking a look across the parking lot.

"No, why?"

"I thought I'd take another run through the park, see if there's anything we missed earlier," he shrugged locking the evidence in the SUV and engaging the security system on the vehicle.

"Hey, knock yourself out," the man shrugged taking a look at his watch. He quickened his pace to keep up with the CSI. It was almost five o'clock.

Nick pulled on a pair of latex gloves in hopes of finding anything that may lead them to a suspect. Crime scene tape still tapered off the area where the body was found, but the lights of the park had long been shut off. The CSI used his flashlight in order to see.

"What are you hoping to find?" Brass asked from beside the younger man. He was short of breath from trying to keep up the quick pace.

"I don't know," Nick shook his head, slowing his pace as he neared the clump of trees from earlier. "But, this could be something," he stopped abruptly.

"What've you got?"

"It looks like a wheel off a skateboard," he said lowering to his haunches to pick up the potential evidence. There was blood around the wheel spoke. "Grissom found splintered wood in the victim's head wound. I bet we're looking for a skateboard as our murder weapon," he said putting the wheel in an evidence bag.

The two men walked the scene once more.

"Grissom should have the results of the autopsy by now," Nick said glancing at his watch. I'll get this wheel to DNA and hopefully match it to the murder weapon," he said before returning to the SUV and driving back to the crime lab. The eastern sky was beginning to show the first evidence of day. It was looking like the dawn of a double shift.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** I'm thinking this may be wrapped up in just a few more chapters. We'll see what comes. Hope you enjoy this chapter...I know it seems kinda slow..but answers are coming...rest assured. Thanks for all the reviews. Keep them coming!

The A/V lab was quiet, isolated even. It was all Nick could do to stay awake, to stay focused. He glanced at his watch. Was it really morning? 9:00 even. He had just spent the last four hours screening the footage he had collected from the super market. His eyes were burning from the prolonged viewing session. He needed to take a break.

He sat back in his seat, stretching his back muscles. He still had one more tape to work through, but not without another cup of coffee. Nick stifled a yawn as he headed to the break room.

"Hey Nicky, you're still here?" Catherine asked as she breezed into the break room. She was heading home. She and Sara had had no problem closing their case within one shift.

"Yeah, I'm waiting on some DNA results," he nodded pouring the black tonic Greg had the nerve to call coffee into his mug. "I'll probably be here a while," he said taking a seat on the couch across the room.

"You look horrible," she said noticing his bloodshot eyes and slightly disheveled appearance. "When's the last time you slept?"

"I don't know," he shrugged leaning his head back on the couch, "twenty-four hours. Griss and I ended up with a missing person case. One kid was found dead at the skate park, his friend is missing. Turns out the missing kid is Judge Shroll's son."

"Sounds rough. How's it going?" she asked taking a seat next to him.

"Slow. I just spent four hours viewing surveillance video from a supermarket. I still haven't found anything definitive. I still haven't gotten autopsy results from Grissom; Doc's been backed up in the morgue all night. We do have an audio of the ransom message left on the judge's cell phone. Archie's been workin' on that," he shrugged as Grissom walked into the break room.

"Hey Nick. I need you," he said filling his own coffee cup. "We're going over to the judge's house. We need to get an idea of who his son is. Grab your kit. I'll meet you at the car."

"Copy that," Nick said not quite ready to get up off the couch.

"Well, good luck," Catherine smiled patting Nick on the knee. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah," Nick yawned slowly moving to an upright position. He was getting old.

It was hot. Another heat wave was plaguing the city. Even at 10 in the morning, the mercury threatened with the hundred degree marker.

Nick and Grissom were joined by Jim Brass at the residence of Judge Shroll. It was a nice place, a stately home in one of the few gated neighborhoods in Vegas. This neighborhood in particular was home to numerous attorneys, judges, and financial officers.

"So what are we looking for?" Nick asked as the three men approached the judge's front door.

"Anything that will give us an idea of where the son could be," Grissom said flatly.

"I'll talk to the judge," Brass nodded as he rang the doorbell.

The judge was a tall man, in his late forties, standing about six feet and some inches tall. His hair was beginning to gray at his temples. As he answered the door, he looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Judge Shroll, I'm Detective Brass. This is Gil Grissom and Nick Stokes from the Crime Lab."

The man only nodded opening the door wider allowing the three to enter. "How can I help you guys find my son?"

"We'll need to take a look at his room," Grissom said removing his sunglasses.

"Look wherever you need to," he nodded. "His is the last room on the left at the top of the stairs," he pointed allowing the criminalists to do their jobs.

Nick led the way up the stairs. Grissom followed suit, taking time to observe as he did so.

The house was clean, he noticed. White walls and white carpet. Pictures of the family lined the wall up the stairs. The CSIs only glanced into each room as they made their way to the boy's room.

The son, Christian Shroll, was a good looking kid. Tall like his father, he was also athletic. His room was typical for any teenager. Skateboarding posters lined the walls; clothes were strewn about, some actually making it to the clothes basket in the corner. The bed was unmade.

Nick pulled on a pair of latex gloves, as did Grissom, and busied himself sifting through the boy's computer desk.

"Hey Griss, check this out," Nick said reading over a note in the boy's handwriting. "J 7 DH 9. What do you think that means?"

Grissom pursed his lips in thought, as he scanned over the paper covered desk. "DH, Durango Hills," he shrugged.

"The skate park," Nick nodded.

"Wasn't our vic's time of death placed around 9:00 last night?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded again. "You thinking the judge's kid's in on this whole thing?"

"I don't know. Weirder things have happened," Grissom shrugged. The two continued their respective searches in comfortable silence. Nick bagged several stacks of papers, and computer print outs. Grissom gathered a couple skateboards, some photos of the two skating partners, and a couple cell phone bills. Their search hadn't given them much, but they hadn't yet gotten to the computer. That was to be taken back to the lab.

"Jason and Christian meet at the skate park everyday, especially right before a tournament," the judge was telling Brass. "They'd meet in the morning and work all day. They had a new element they were working on."

"So, yesterday morning what time did Christian leave the house?" the detective asked writing some notes down on a pad of paper.

"Around eleven, I guess. He slept late today. I didn't have to be in court until the afternoon."

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your son?"

"Jason and Christian were the two top competitors in their age bracket. Kids come from all over the country to compete in this skateboard competition. Kids would kill for a status like my son had," the judge said, his head in his hands. "Christian was ranked second in the country."

"Who was first?"

"Jason," he replied as the two CSIs made their ways down the stairs. Nick carried the boy's computer out the door.

"Well, it looks like we have all we need for now. We're processing the voicemail you gave us earlier. We're doing everything we can to find your son."

"Thank you. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate."

"Sure thing," the detective said shaking the judge's hand and following the criminalists out the front door.

"When did you get friendly with the judge?" Grissom asked as they approached the Denali, his hands full with evidence.

"So did you guys find anything?" Brass asked ignoring the question.

"We're taking the computer to the lab to see what we can find," Grissom pointed as Nick piled the equipment into the back of the SUV.

"We found some papers on the kid's desk," Nick said. "Could be something, could be nothing," he shrugged.

"This case is giving me a headache," the detective said putting on his sunglasses.

"Let's get this stuff back to the lab. Doc should have the autopsy report by now," Grissom nodded as Nick made his way to the driver's seat.

"Yeah, I've got some surveillance to finish up," Nick nodded. "DNA should be coming back too."

"What do you say we drive thru for some lunch?" Brass asked looking at his watch. "My treat," he smiled.

"Greasy man fuel," Nick smiled backing the SUV out of the driveway and toward the nearest Burger King. It had been a good nine hours since he had acknowledged his stomach. He would need the energy to finish out the shift. The couple hours sleep he was hoping to get before shift tonight were quickly beginning to look more and more like a dream as the daytime hours quickly faded.

Time was working against them, as it does in every missing person case. Now that it was nearing 1:00, they had yet to have anymore contact with the supposed kidnappers. The evidence was not giving them much to work with. It was hard to remain optimistic on this one. He was beginning to fear this case turning into a double homicide. Some answers would be a really good thing to have right now. But only questions plagued the two CSIs. It was not the best place to be in an investigation, according to Nick.

Grissom rode in silence as Nick steered in and out of traffic. Some of the questions Nick mulled over in his own head, Grissom also wrestled with in his mind. Grissom, however, enjoyed the puzzle, the intrigue of unanswered questions, the possibilities each answer offered. He really loved this job.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note:** This is a bit longer from previous chapters...had a little more I wanted to cover here, it kinda got away from me once I got it going. Not sure how much longer this will take...few more chapters I suspect! Hope you enjoy this one...should get the next chapter up tomorrow! Thanks for all the reviews!

"Hey, Nicky," Grissom said entering the A/V lab. "What have you got?"

"A lot of nothing," the CSI said leaning back in his seat. "But, check this out," he pointed to the larger screen on the wall. He quickly cued the tape and played it for the supervisor.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"This is the parking lot of the supermarket," Nick said. "Check out the top left corner of the screen. I'll play it again," he said re-cueing the tape. "Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"We've got a partial view of the parking lot of the skate park across the street. If you look you can see our black SUV pull away," Nick smiled as Grissom turned to face the CSI. "Here, I'll zoom in on the focal point and enhance the pixels. The driver was really burning rubber out of there. I think I can get a partial plate number."

"Good," Grissom nodded. "Anything from trace or DNA yet?" he asked.

"I was just about to go check with Hodges on the tire treads I left with him and the wood fragments you left. I'm hoping he could match the wood to a specific skateboard, at least a model."

"What did you find on that wheel you collected?"

"Well, it's a better quality skateboard wheel. They're only sold at specialty sporting goods stores. The specific wheel is primarily used on street courses, and usually used for heavy wear. From the wear on the wheel, it was on the right side of the board," Nick informed.

"It was worn down on the inside of the wheel," Grissom nodded.

"Yeah."

"Well, it seems like we're finally getting somewhere. We have our murder weapon."

"Get this," Nick started. "I printed the wheel. Got mostly smudges, but got a good partial from the spoke."

"And…"

"And the print belongs to Christian Shroll."

"Our missing person."

"Our missing person," Nick nodded, "is beginning to look like our suspect. The question is; what would Christian Shroll gain from killing his skating partner?"

"To find the answer, we need to find the kid," Grissom said turning to leave the A/V lab. "Let me know what you find from DNA."

"Will do," Nick said finishing up his work with the surveillance tapes.

"Hey Nick!" Warrick called from down the hall. Nick was on his way to the trace lab. "You're still around?"

"Haven't left," Nick shook his head.

"So what's up?"

"Well, I've got a DB and a missing person. I'm on my way to trace now," Nick pointed toward the lab.

"Anything I can do?"

"Well, actually, Brass put out an APB on a black Suburban. I just got a call that they found it out near I-15. I'm getting ready to head out there if you wanna come."

"Yeah sure," he nodded following Nick into the small lab.

"What have you got for me Hodges?" Nick asked.

"Well, the tire treads you gave me are from a 2000 Chevy Suburban. From what I can tell, they really shredded the tires. Check out this pattern," he said motioning toward the computer screen.

"Looks like the left tire's bald," Warrick said looking over Nick's shoulder.

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "What do you make of this," Nick pointed to a smudge on the tread.

"I don't know," the lab tech shrugged. "Could be anything, a rock in the tire tread, a nail? The possibilities are endless."

"What about the wood splinters Grissom gave you?"

"The wood is definitely maple. Most companies that make skateboards use it these days. Look at the splinter," he said pointing to the microscope. "Each splinter has layers. The process of making a board is pretty simple. Once the tree is cut and stripped, they're cut into thin veneers and laminated. They take the veneers, usually seven, in this case nine, and glue it together. The veneers are run through a hydraulic press to give it the shape, you know the nose, tail and concave? Then they're cut into shape for size and wheelbase, that sort of thing," Hodges explained.

"Have you gone skater punk on us?" Nick asked with a small chuckle crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"It's my job to know this stuff," Hodges smirked. "If you really want to know this stuff, ask Greg. You wanted to know what the wood was. It's definitely maple and it definitely came from a skateboard. Looks like you're looking for your own skater punk," he grinned.

"All right, thanks," Nick said making his way into the DNA lab. "Hey Mia," he said walking through the connecting door of the two labs.

"Hey guys," she smiled looking up from the scope on the table.

"What's the word?" he asked leaning against the table watching the DNA tech rustle through some papers.

"I got the results back on your shells and the blood. The DNA I found on the shells matched the DNA on the wrapper the shells came from."

"That makes sense," Warrick nodded looking over the printouts. "That means one person was eating sunflower seeds."

"But, this doesn't make sense. The DNA I found on the shells also matches the DNA I got off the wheel you gave me."

"The blood DNA?" Nick asked.

"No, there was a second donor on the wheel. The blood samples you gave me all match the victim. But, none of the DNA, the shells or the wheel, matches the hair you gave me from the judge's son."

"Well that sucks," Nick sighed taking the file Mia handed him. "Thanks," he nodded looking through the file as he headed toward Grissom's office.

"Hey Griss, got the DNA results back. All the blood, from the sidewalk and the wheel, is a match to the victim. There was a second donor on the wheel; it doesn't match the victim or Christian Shroll. It _does_ match the DNA from the sunflower seeds, though," Nick said taking up residence in Grissom's office doorway. "I just got a call from Brass. We have a location on our black Suburban, out near Lake Mead. I was about to head out and have a look. I'm taking Warrick with me," he said handing over the DNA files.

"Good work, Nick," the supervisor nodded taking a look at the file. "The victim's parents are coming in. They've been on vacation back east. I'll meet up with them at the morgue and maybe get a better picture of who Christian Shroll is," he said. "Keep me up to date on that SUV."

"Will do," the CSI nodded as he joined back up with Warrick and headed toward the parking lot.

The sun was beginning to lower in the western sky. Nick was honing in on a triple shift. The only thing that kept him moving now was pure adrenaline. The case was starting to come together, and nothing made the CSI feel better than a closed case, despite the sheer exhaustion he felt with the passing of each hour.

The air was beginning to cool down from the afternoon heat. The crowds at Lake Mead were beginning to slim down. A few boats still lingered out in the center of the lake, but a lot of people were making their way to their respective vehicles. The lake, while nice for daytime visits, wasn't much for the night life. The strip tended to be more to people's likings.

"There's Brass," Warrick pointed from the passenger seat.

"Yeah," Nick nodded pulling the Denali into a parking space next to the detective's Taurus. "Hey Jim," the CSI smiled jumping down from the driver's seat, "you look like crap."

"Can't say much for you," the detective yawned noticing the CSI's own disheveled appearance. "I can't pull a triple like I used to. So, the car's registered to a Dave Eubanks," Brass informed as the three men walked toward the vehicle.

"Have you looked inside?" Warrick asked pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

"We were waiting for you guys," the detective said motioning for cadet to pop the lock on the back door.

Nick took out his Maglite to begin his preliminary search of the vehicle as Warrick snapped some digital photos of the Suburban. At first glance, the SUV looked clean.

"Why don't we get this towed back to CSI? We'll process it there," Nick said from the driver's seat of the vehicle. He scanned his light over the dash before reaching over and popping open the glove box. "Looks like I've got some registration papers," he said. "Dave Eubanks' name is on the pink slip."

"Hey Nick, take a look at this," Warrick called from the rear.

"What have you got?" he asked joining the man.

"Could be blood," he said shining his light on the rear bumper. It was only a small droplet, but large enough for the trained eyes of the CSI. Nick quickly swabbed the droplet for evidence.

"Look at the directionality of the drop," he noted with a sweeping of his flashlight. "It's leading away from the SUV."

"Yeah," Warrick nodded following Nick's light with his eyes.

"Hey Rick, we've got a blood trail," Nick said standing next to a second blood drop a few feet away from the vehicle. He bent down to place an evidence marker next to the droplet. Warrick snapped some more photos, following Nick across the parking lot.

Forty-five minutes later the two CSIs had crossed a path of nearly a mile and a half. They were now in a wooded area about three miles north of the lake. The trees, not to mention the lowering sun now behind the desert mountains, made following the blood trail a slow process.

Nick placed evidence marker number 35 as Warrick snapped four more photos. "Hey Rick, check it out," he said standing up from his crouched position. Straight ahead of the men was a small storage shed. The door was padlocked.

"The trail leads to that shed," Warrick said shining his light on the padlock. "We're gonna need bolt cutters."

Nick was already running back to the Denali. Within ten minutes the CSI was cutting into the metal lock. Warrick pulled his gun from his side, readying himself for what could be behind the door. With a nod of assurance to Nick, Nick quickly opened the shed door and took a step back. Focusing their lights on the now open shed, they were shocked by what they found. There, bound on the floor, mouth duck taped, with a bleeding head wound, laid a teenage boy.

"Shit! Call the paramedics!" Nick said as Warrick quickly holstered his gun and radioed for an ambulance. "It's okay," Nick said in a calming voice to the boy. "We're with the police." He carefully removed the tape covering the boy's mouth, making sure not to damage any potential evidence. He handed the evidence over to Warrick who placed it in a plastic bag. "Take it easy," he said keeping the boy as calm as possible. His heart was pounding. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. This case was throwing one curve-ball after another. Exhaustion was now replaced with exhilaration as the CSIs worked to keep the teenager calm.

Within fifteen minutes of the call, the ambulance had arrived and taken the boy to the hospital. Nick and Warrick spent the next hour and a half processing the storage shed, dusting the padlock for any fingerprints, as well as the area around the shed, searching for anymore blood evidence.

It was dark as they headed back to the parked Denali with their evidence in hand. Neither CSI had spoken since the boy, who they now knew to be Christian Shroll, had been taken to the hospital.

"I just got done talking to the paramedics," Brass said as the CSIs approached their Denali. The Suburban had long since been towed to the lab. "The kid should be fine. He was a little dehydrated, but other than that. He'll get a few stitches for the cut on his forehead; they'll keep him overnight then send him home."

"Alright," Nick nodded as he and Warrick secured their evidence and field kits in the back of the SUV. "I've got to get back to the lab and check in with Grissom. The parents of our first victim should be in by now. I want to see if we have anything new on this Shroll kid. He's still our best bet for a suspect, until we get the Suburban processed anyway."

"Why don't I head to the hospital?" Warrick said with a nod. "Maybe I can get the kid's statement, see what happened."

"Sure," Nick said looking to the detective.

"You can ride with me," Brass said to the taller CSI. "Hopefully the judge will let us talk to him."

"Alright, well I'll see you back at the lab," Nick said reaching into his jeans pocket for the car keys. "Hey, Rick, I'll wait for you to process the Suburban. We'll have to run the treads to get a match."

"You got it," the man nodded climbing into the detective's car.

It was nearing the start of the graveyard shift, 10:45 was the story Nick's watch told as he climbed into the Denali and headed back to the lab. He could really use a shower, and a few hours of sleep. With a case this hot, it would have to wait. His top priority now, was to figure out who tied up Christian Shroll and left him for dead in the woods of Lake Mead Recreational Park.

Hopefully Grissom had gotten some answers from Jason Parks' parents. That would be his first stop after dropping off his evidence to DNA. Well, that and the coffee pot in the break room. He really hoped Greg had made it in early and made some coffee from his secret stash. The usual swill just wouldn't cut it this time.

Still, sleep would be really good, he thought with a yawn as he turned the corner and into the parking lot of the crime lab. He spotted Greg's car as he circled the lot and pulled into a parking spot. Things were already starting to look up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note:** Here's a new chapter. A few more clues, a few more questions. I've finally got a clear idea where this story is taking me...so hopefully I can update a little more quickly. Look for chapter seven sometime late tomorrow night or even Thursday. Thanks again for the reviews!

"Nick!" Warrick called from across the break room. He must have fallen asleep. What time was it anyway? "Man, you okay?" his partner asked taking a seat next to the CSI on the couch.

"Yeah," he nodded rubbing his eyes. It was almost midnight. He'd planned to sit down for only a minute. He had no intentions of sleeping for nearly an hour.

"When's the last time you slept man?" Warrick asked taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Uh, yesterday sometime, I guess," Nick shrugged. His coffee had long since turned cold. He stood to refill his cup. "What did you get from the Shroll kid?"

"Not a lot," Warrick shook his head. "He was pretty out of it. Brass is gonna head back over there in the morning and get an official statement. He did tell us that somebody hit him from behind. When he woke up he was tied up in the shed."

"You're right, it's not much," Nick sighed taking a seat back on the couch. "I still need to process the Suburban. You game?"

"Wouldn't be fair to make you do it alone," Warrick nodded as Greg entered the room.

"Hey guys," he smiled. "Man, Nick, who ran you over?" he laughed taking up residence in the nearest chair.

"Shut up," Nick said leaning he head on the back of the couch. "I've been on since last night, man."

"So your case is that bad, huh?"

"Man, I haven't slept in 36 hours. I have a pile of evidence with no real answers. I have a kid in the hospital who could be my only viable witness, and he's not up to talking yet. Yes, the case is that bad."

"If it makes you feel any better, Mia sent me to find you. She said she had something for you to see," the young CSI grinned with a raised eyebrow. "Warrick, you on the same case?"

"I am now," he nodded watching Nick stand up. "Hey Nicky, I'll meet you at the garage in ten minutes. I'm gonna go talk to Grissom for a sec."

"Copy that," he said as he left the break room. Maybe if he kept moving he could break from shift early tonight, or this morning as his watch served as a constant reminder of his place in the space time continuum. He could have sworn at one point the second hand actually ticked backwards. He was too tired.

"Hey Nick," Mia said looking up as the man entered the DNA lab.

"What have you got for me?" he asked.

"You'll like this," she smiled handing him another file. "The blood drops you collected from Lake Mead, don't match the Shroll kid," she started as Nick took a look at the papers.

"They came back unknown," he frowned. "What's to like about that?"

"I'm getting there. Your blood drops match the DNA from the sunflower seeds and the skateboard wheel, they're all still unknown. Your killer is bleeding," she smiled.

"All right," he nodded closing the file folder. "You've redeemed yourself," he smiled leaving the lab. He quickly dropped the file off with Grissom, explained the findings and then headed to the garage.

"You ready for this?" Warrick asked walking into the garage as Nick zipped up his coveralls.

"Let's do this," he nodded. Pulling on latex gloves and whipping out their respective flashlights, the men set to processing the SUV.

It was an arduous process. Each man covered every square inch of the vehicles interior. Nick covered the front seats, emptying the glove box of any possibly relevant materials, mainly the registration papers and repair receipts. He placed each piece of paper in its own evidence bag.

"Found it!" Nick called from the driver's seat directing the UV light on the floor mats.

"What's that?" Warrick responded from the back seat.

"Hairs. I found some on the head rest too. Could belong to our killer."

"Assuming our killer is also our kidnapper," Warrick nodded.

"You ready for me to fume this puppy?" Nick asked placing the hairs in an envelope.

"Yeah, I got some gray fibers back here. Could be from our victim's sweatshirt," Warrick nodded placing his own evidence in a spindle. "Let's superglue her!"

Warrick closed all the doors while Nick positioned the fume wand in the center console.

"All right," Nick nodded closing the driver side door and allowing the fumes to accumulate within the car. It took nearly thirty minutes for the fumes to build up and die down enough for the men to resume their work.

"Let's take a look," Warrick nodded noticing the clearing air within the vehicle.

The men returned to the inside of the vehicle, using their flashlights to illuminate any possible fingerprints.

"I've got some smudges on the steering wheel," Nick shook his head. "Wait a second, I think I've got a decent partial here," he said. A smile tickled the corners of his mouth as he pulled out a tape lift.

"I've got a partial over here," Warrick nodded from the passenger side. "We may be looking for two people."

"Check out the gear shift," Nick smiled shining his light on the stick. It was something he'd missed before they fumed for prints.

"Whoa, what the hell is that?" he asked noticing a foreign substance on the gear shift. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Maybe," Nick grinned as he pulled out the UV light and shone it on the stick shift. "Oh yeah," he laughed, almost triumphantly, "We've got seminal fluid. Something besides a kidnapping was going down in this car."

"I'll say," Warrick said as he pulled out a cotton swab and took a sample for DNA.

The two CSIs spent another hour processing the interior of the car. Satisfied with what they found, the shut the doors. They were now ready to begin processing the exterior of the Suburban. Nick started running the fingerprints through AFIS as Warrick rigged the Suburban to be lifted off the ground.

"All right, let's get those tread marks," Nick said clapping his gloved hands as he returned to the garage.

The two CSIs busied themselves by slathering each tire in petroleum jelly. It was the most effective way to get a good tire tread. Another hour had passed before they were ready to lower the vehicle onto the print paper. As Warrick lowered the vehicle, Nick reached in and shifted the car into neutral. Once the car was rolled forward, giving them a decent tread mark, Warrick poured the black printing powder over the paper. This not only made the tread more visible, but made it permanent on the paper.

"Looks like we've got a match to the treads I picked up from the scene," Nick grinned as he compared the crime scene photos to the newly made treads.

"That mark you noticed earlier is from a nail," Warrick pointed out. "The tires are designed to withstand a nail puncture without deflating for a good hundred miles. This tire hasn't even begun to lose pressure."

"It's a good tire," Nick nodded.

"I'll say," Warrick snickered. "I'll get Brass to track down this Dave Eubanks and bring him in. What do you wanna bet he's reported his car stolen?" Warrick smirked.

"Ah man, don't say that. With the way this case has been going," Nick grimaced. "I can't use too many more curve balls. I'm running the prints right now. I'll go sit on the computer; hopefully AFIS will pop something out for us. I put a rush on those hairs and fibers we found too. Hodges should be able to tell us something within the hour. He'll page me when he's got something," Nick yawned.

"Hey, you recovered the kid's computer right?" Warrick asked removing his gloves and placing them in a plastic bag and labeling them.

"Yeah, I gave it to Archie. I haven't had a chance to get with him yet," Nick nodded doing the same with his own gloves.

"I'll check on that for you," Warrick nodded. "Oh yeah, Grissom wanted an update from you as soon as we finished here. I forgot to tell you."

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "I was gonna head that way anyway. Oh hey, how did that dinner date go?" he asked with a mischievous grin as the two men exited the garage.

"Bro, it sucked," Warrick rolled his eyes. "I took her to a sushi bar and found out she was a vegetarian," he laughed. "I cut it short and made it home in time to see the end of Poker World Series on ESPN," he smiled.

"Serves you right for picking a girl up outside of Circus Circus," Nick laughed as he headed down the hall. He'd make a quick stop to refill his coffee cup before heading to Grissom's office.

The supervisor had been neck deep in evaluations, and budget proposals since noon. He hadn't had time to catch Nick up on the interview with the Parks family. Had he even remembered to tell Nick the autopsy results? What day was it anyway?

Nick quickly filled his coffee mug and made his way to Grissom's office. One last look at his watch reminded him of just how tired he was. It had been a good 40 hours since he'd had a quality sleep. He shook his head, reminding himself to keep focused on the case. It wouldn't be long until all the pieces were connected. If he could hold out another six hours, the case would more than solve itself. If only, he thought as he tapped on Grissom's door and entered the office. If only.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** I would have had this chapter up sooner...but I realized I messed up on the timeline and had to make a couple changes. Hope this will suffice...no worries...Nick gets to sleep..and there's a little action. Thanks again for the reviews! Check for chapter 8 sometime tonight!

It was three in the afternoon. Nick had more than earned a break long enough to result in a decent amount of sleep. He had put in more overtime in the last 48 hours than he had in the past week combined. This case really had it out for him.

Satisfied with the work he'd put in within the past 48 hours, Grissom had made him go home and catch some sleep. He couldn't very well expect the man to work when he, himself, was headed home to do the same thing.

Nick wanted to hug the man as he left the office and headed to his truck. Sleep was a hot commodity, something he'd had little of in the past two days. He had quickly caught Warrick up on the happenings and made a speedy getaway.

Now, nearly 10 hours later, with a new spring in his step he made his way into the locker room. He was more than ready to close this case. Hell, maybe Warrick had made some progress; maybe he'd even interviewed Christian Shroll.

After making a stop at his locker he made his way to the break room.

"Hey, Greggo!" he smiled making a beeline for the coffee maker. "What's on tap?" It was unusual for the young CSI to be in so early.

"My special hula blend," the younger CSI grinned enjoying his own cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Shipped straight from the islands."

"Yeah, man" Nick nodded a little skepticism in his voice. "You seen Warrick yet?"

"Hey guys," Warrick Brown nodded making his way into the community room.

"Rick, what's the word?" Nick asked with a nod. "Was about to go lookin' for you."

"Just got in," the tall man said taking a seat at the table. He already had some files in his possession to review. "Grissom wants us wrapping up this case. You gonna share some of that brew?" he asked Greg.

"Help yourself," the kid nodded. There was definitely something about Greg. He'd changed within the past four months. He wasn't the same kid from the lab, that was for sure. Warrick poured coffee into his cup, and returned to the files.

"Man, do you work here anymore?" the criminalist asked the former lab tech. "Last time I saw you, you were sitting in the same position. And what are you doing in so early?"

"Well, after you and I closed our case, I decided to help Catharine and Sara. I came in early to get some DNA results, only they're not ready yet. Didn't see much point in leaving," he shrugged Grissom entered the break room.

"Greg, you're in early," he said.

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"So what's new?" Grissom asked Nick and Warrick taking a seat across the table.

"Well, I've got Brass's notes from his interview with Christian Shroll. We've got blood evidence leading us to a third person, possibly our killer/kidnapper," Warrick started.

"We've got the Suburban, which we _know_ was used to transport Christian Shroll from the skate park to Lake Mead. Brass is bringing in Dave Eubanks, the owner of the SUV for questioning. Fingerprints lifted from the vehicle are still running through AFIS," Nick added. "We've got fibers lifted from the back of the car. They're a match to the sweatshirt Christian Shroll had on."

"You said there were two DNA donors on the wheel, right?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah, Jason Parks, our victim, and the other came back unknown," Nick nodded.

"We know the killer used a skateboard to whack the Parks kid," Warrick said. "It could also have been used to knock the Shroll kid unconscious."

"What are we missing?" Nick asked. "What's right in front of us that we're not seeing?"

"The skating tournament was yesterday right?" Grissom asked.

"Yesterday was…" Nick trailed off.

"Thursday," Warrick chimed in.

"So the tournament was yesterday," Grissom nodded. "We need to get the results from that tournament."

"And that'll help how?" Warrick asked not yet picking up the trail Grissom was leaving.

"The number one ranked skater is dead, and the second is in the hospital," Nick nodded remembering their interview with the judge.

"We need to get those results," Grissom nodded.

"Hey, get this," Warrick said glancing at his notes. "Brass got a list of the kids on the skate team with Shroll and Parks. There's a Chris Eubanks listed. Could be Dave Eubanks' son."

"I'll call Brass," Grissom nodded. "We'll bring Dave and Chris in together."

"I still need to get with Archie on Christian Shroll's computer. First, I've got to check out those fingerprints," Nick said standing up from the table. "Then we can follow the tournament rankings," he said patting Warrick on the shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded. "I'll check with DNA on the semen we got from the car."

"Oh, hey guys," Grissom said catching the men at the door. "I'll be with Brass questioning the Eubanks'. Keep me posted."

"Always do," Nick smiled with a nod.

"Oh, and get a detective to head out with you."

"Sure thing," the men nodded heading in their respective directions.

"So this is what a skate park looks like?" Sgt. O'Riley said as he climbed out of his car.

"Hey, O'Riley," Nick said. He and Warrick had been at Skate City, the venue for the tournament as well as the nicest indoor skate park in the greater Las Vegas area, nearly twenty minutes waiting for the detective to show up. It was nearly four thirty. They only had half an hour before the office closed. "What took you so long, man?"

"Traffic was backed up at the strip. Had to find another way around," he said, there was a slight hint of defensiveness in his tone. "So what's the deal? I get a call telling me to meet you guys here…what, you don't interview people anymore?"

"Hey, it was Grissom's idea for you to baby sit us," Nick shook his head, his Texas drawl a little thicker than usual. It seemed the supervisor was more hesitant these days to let his CSIs go out alone.

"We need to get the results of the tournament from yesterday. The main office for the park should have records of who attended and how they ranked," Warrick said, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Well, let's _git r done_," the detective smiled leading the way to the park office.

"No way, you know Larry the Cable Guy," Nick laughed as the men made their way across the parking lot.

"Hey, I got HBO," the man smiled, as they reached the office and entered.

The presence of the three men was almost overpowering in the small office space, however the lady working the front desk didn't seem at all surprised to see them enter.

"How may I help you?" she asked with a pleasant smile, her voice like that of a chipmunk.

"I'm Detective O'Riley," the man said showing the lady his badge. "This is Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown of the Crime Lab. We understand you hosted a tournament here yesterday."

"Yes we did. It's the third largest amateur tournament in the country," she nodded.

"We'd like to see your records of all those who attended the tournament and their rankings," the detective said.

"Don't you need a warrant or something?" she asked, obviously hesitant.

"Not if you offer the lists voluntarily," Warrick offered with a slight shrug.

"Look, ma'am," Nick chimed in, "we're investigating a murder. The victim was slated to be at this tournament. If we could get a record of who was here; it may help us find his killer."

"You'll have to talk to Don," she pointed over her shoulder. "He handled the tournament, took in registration and handled the lineup."

"So, where can we find Don?" O'Riley asked. He hated it when people were annoying, and this lady was annoying. Her voice reminded him of running fingernails down a chalkboard.

"He's out making some repairs on the course."

"Thank you," he nodded, forcing a grin, as the men made their way out of the office.

The indoor course was a mixture of grinding rails, vert ramps, and other street elements. Don Henson, the apparent manager of the tournament, was on the far end of the course. He couldn't be more than 23 years old. He was just a kid.

"Oh, this guy's a punk," Warrick rolled his eyes as he spotted the man.

"The evidence tell you that?" O'Riley asked with a slight grin.

"Don Henson?" Nick asked the man as the three LVMPD employees approached.

With only a slight hesitation upon noting the detective's badge with wide eyes, the man took off outside. He was fast, but not very smart, Nick thought, not hesitating to run after the man.

"Aw, hell no," Warrick scowled. He quickly fell in Nick's tow.

"Why the hell is he running?" Nick asked as he chased the man across the open parking lot. Anyone smarter would have taken a route with more obstacles, he thought about the many suspect chases he had been a part of.

"Take the left," Warrick called winging around to the right and starting to close the distance between them and the runner.

Within seconds the CSIs had caught up to the man.

"Slow down, Mr. Henson," Nick managed to say as he grabbed the back of the kid's shirt and tackled him to the ground. "Why the hell are you running?" he repeated his question.

O'Riley was on top of the men within seconds, running was not his forte. The burly man managed to handcuff the runner, between gasps for air, and bring him to his feet.

"You know this makes you look bad, right?" the detective asked escorting him to the Ford Taurus parked beside the CSIs' Denali.

"I want a lawyer," he grimaced.

"Of course you do," O'Riley nodded slightly less than shoving the man into the backseat.

"How's that for skater punk?" Warrick asked Nick as they followed O'Riley and their new suspect.

"I'll get this guy to PD," O'Riley said closing the backdoor.

"We'll go in and get those papers," Nick nodded pointing back to the main office, "and meet you in interrogation."

"Man, I'm sweating," Warrick sighed as he followed his partner back to the office. "_Damn_ him for making me run on my bad knee."

"Buck up, bro," Nick said. "We could have this case closed tonight," he smiled giving his friend a pat on the shoulder.

Things were starting to take form. He could almost see the picture now. Nick and Warrick got the papers they needed and made their way back to CSI. It was an interesting case; Nick had to chalk that one up. He sure would be glad, though, when it was closed.

"You hungry?" he asked Warrick climbing into the vehicle.

"Man, I just burned off my lunch running after that punk," Warrick said.

"Taco Bell it is," he smiled to himself as he maneuvered the Denali in and out of traffic. It was going to be another marathon of a shift, Nick thought. He wouldn't have it any other way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Note:** made a little faux pa in my writing...somehow made the jason parks character turn into a james park...i made the necessary adjustments! so here, again is chapter eight!

The interrogation room was only slightly warmer than a meat cooler in a grocery store. The dim light, the dark walls, the cold metal chairs made it one step up from a jail cell. It was meant to cause intimidation. It was meant to get suspects to open up. The presence of the burly detective didn't help matters any.

The squirrelly kid, Don Henson, fidgeted in his seat, his arms still handcuffed behind his back. O'Riley sat in a chair across the table from the kid as Nick Stokes entered the small room.

"Why'd you run?" the detective asked. Nick remained standing just behind the detective's right shoulder.

"Where's my lawyer?" the kid asked. "You're not getting shit from me," he said a scowl making itself known on the kid's face.

"Well, hey," Nick said, a glare in his own eye. "That's fine. You don't have to say a word. The DNA will do the talking for us. Open your mouth."

"Hell, no!"

"You better do what he says," the detective said sliding a piece of paper over the table. "We've got a warrant."

"My client has nothing to say to you," a tall, slender lady said breezing into the room, Don Henson's attorney. Nick was in the middle of procuring an oral swab from the suspect.

"That's okay," the detective shrugged leaning back in his seat. "We've got what we want. You two get comfortable, we'll be back," he said following Nick out of the room and into the busy hallway.

"I'll get this to the lab," Nick said referring to the cotton swab in his hand.

"We can hold him for running. He's ours for twenty-four hours."

"I won't need that long," Nick nodded turning to make his way toward the DNA lab. "I should know something in a few hours."

"Hey," Warrick said glancing up from his papers; he had a highlighter in hand.

"Anything from the rosters?" Nick asked entering the evidence room.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Dave Eubanks is the coach for the local skate chapter; both our guys belong to the team. Dave's son, Chris, is also on the team. He finished second overall yesterday."

"I just got a page from Grissom. He and Brass are with the Eubanks' now," Nick said already heading out the door to another interrogation. This time he remained in the observation room, hidden behind the two-way mirror. Warrick entered the interrogation room only long enough to leave the results from the tournament with Grissom, his notes clearly highlighted for the man to follow.

"You placed second overall at the tournament yesterday," Brass said with a small grin. "Congratulations." Was that sarcasm in his voice?

"It should have been first," the kid said under his breath wiping ink from his fingers. Grissom had just fingerprinted the kid and his father. An intern had rushed the prints to the lab for analysis.

"Shut up," the man told his son between clinched teeth.

"What was that?" Brass asked leaning an ear toward the boy.

"Look, is there some reason you drug us in here?" Dave Eubanks spoke up.

"Yeah, there is," Brass nodded raising his eyebrows. He derived a little too much pleasure from an uncomfortable suspect. "You're Suburban was found, abandoned I might add, out at Lake Mead. Care to explain?" It really wasn't a question.

"My car was stolen two days ago," the man shrugged.

"Did you happen to file a report?" Brass asked leaning over the table, clasping his hands together on the table top.

"I hadn't gotten around to it. I've been busy," the man said. He was getting nervous. "With the tournament and all…" he trailed off.

Nick had a slight glint in his eyes. Brass had a way with suspects, he thought as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"This guy's a punk, too," Warrick said shaking his head.

Archie, the audio visual tech, knocked lightly on the observation room door and let himself in.

"Hey, Nick. I've got that report you wanted," he said handing a file folder over to the CSI.

"Thanks man," Nick nodded as the tech made his way back to his lab. "Look at this," Nick smiled reading quickly over the report.

"What's that?" Warrick asked reading over Nick's shoulder.

"It looks like Chris Eubanks and Christian Shroll were good buddies. There's at least a dozen e-mails leading up to the day of our murder. They go back a good month. Wait a second…" he trailed off.

"What?"

"I'll be right back," Nick said quickly leaving the observation room. Something was off. He quickly made his way to the evidence room. Sara was there sorting through evidence from her current case.

"Hey," she smiled. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah," Nick nodded, a little preoccupied.

"Hot case?"

"You could say that," he nodded taking out a box of evidence he and Grissom had gathered from Christian Shroll's bedroom. He rummaged through the contents until he found what he was looking for. A small envelope containing a piece of paper, the letters and numbers hadn't made any sense, until now. "Sorry, can't talk," he said quickly returning the box to its place on the shelf and hurrying back to interrogation.

"Hey, Archie," Nick said into his cell phone. "I need you to trace that unknown e-mail account, from the Shroll kid's computer, for me. I need to know who sent that e-mail," he said entering the police department rejoining Warrick.

"What's that?" he asked noticing the new evidence envelope in Nick's hand.

"Check this out. There are a good dozen e-mails between the Shroll kid and Eubanks here."

"That makes sense," Warrick shrugged. "They're on the same team."

Nick nodded.

"There are two more e-mails from an unknown sender. I have Archie tracing them now, but get this; we found this piece of paper on Christian Shroll's computer desk."

"J 7, DH 9," Warrick read. "Yeah, so?"

"It didn't mean anything to me, either," Nick shrugged. "But check out this e-mail. The whole thing's been a set up."

"Whoa," Warrick said taking a closer look at the computer records. "Christian Shroll and Chris Eubanks arranged for Jason Parks to be in the park that night?"

Nick only nodded.

"We need to find out who sent that e-mail," he said as his cell phone rang. He answered it on the second ring.

"Nick Stokes...yeah…sweet. Thanks, Mia."

"What have you got?"

"Our fingerprint from the steering wheel is a match to Chris Eubanks," Nick smiled.

"Anything on the partial I lifted off the dash?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Don Henson."

"So where exactly does Christian Shroll play into all of this?" Warrick asked his hands on his hips as he gazed into the interrogation room. It looked like the kid had clammed up.

"That may be our last piece of the puzzle," he shrugged as he peered into the other room. God, he hoped he was right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Note:** and chapter nine is done! i'm trying to make sure all my bases are covered...trying to connect all the early evidence to the end here. hopefully it comes off smoothly! thanks again for reviews!

Nick left Warrick in the observation room and made his way into the interrogation room.

"Hey Chris, I'm Nick Stokes," the criminalist said taking post at the table. "Tell me about Don Henson."

"The guy at Skate City?" the boy's father asked.

"He lets me into the park to practice. He's a cool guy," the kid shrugged.

"You want to tell me why I found your fingerprint on the steering wheel of your father's car?"

"I borrow it every now and then," he shrugged. "Especially if I need to practice."

"Did you borrow the car Wednesday night?"

"Yeah, I practiced Wednesday night."

"At Skate City?"

"Yeah."

"Don Henson lets you in the park after hours?" Nick asked.

"Sure," the kid nodded. "He lets a lot of us in. It's where we all practice. He lets us stay as long as we want, especially before a tournament. I was there till ten. I have a key to lock up."

"So tell me something," Nick said pulling a chair up to the table. "Why do we have your Suburban pulling away from the Durango Hills skate park at nine o'clock Wednesday night?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. He was becoming increasingly nervous.

"Here's what I think," Nick said leaning back in his chair. "I think you went to Skate City to pick up Don Henson. You may have stuck around for a while, worked on some tricks. Around eight thirty, you and Don got in your Suburban and drove across town to Durango Hills," the CSI narrated as Warrick silently entered the room, handing his partner another file. "You got to the skate park around eight forty-five. Don knew what he had to do, it was all planned out. You waited in the car while he climbed a tree waiting for Christian and James to walk by. Just as they past, he jumped down. He killed Jason with Christian's skateboard, in the process knocking Christian Shroll unconscious."

"Hang on a second," Dave Eubanks spoke up. "You think my son had something to do with Jason's murder?"

"It's not what we think," Grissom said with a tilt of his head. "It's what the evidence is telling us. We have record of your son communicating with Christian Shroll and now Don Henson arranging for the little meeting in the park," he said reading over the files.

"If all you have is a couple e-mails," Dave said anger present in his voice.

"We have more than just a few e-mails," Nick said. "We have more than a dozen e-mails nailing out every detail. We have tire treads from your vehicle in the parking lot. That places it at the scene that night. We have your SUV in a parking lot at Lake Mead, with a trail of blood leading to the site where we found Christian Shroll bound and gagged. Christian wasn't supposed to stick around at the park was he?"

"We've heard enough," Dave said. "We need a lawyer."

"No," Brass smirked. "Your son needs a lawyer."

"First, we need a DNA sample," Grissom said pulling out a cotton swab.

The man must keep a supply in his pants pocket, Nick thought as he watched the man collect the sample. The criminalists and detective left the interrogation room, leaving the father and son to hash things out.

"I'll get that swab to DNA," Warrick said taking the evidence from Grissom.

"So where does all this leave us?" Grissom asked.

"We've got Don Henson's DNA. It's being compared to the third donor on the skateboard wheel," Nick started. "If we can get a match, we can place the murder weapon in Henson's hand."

"Speaking of murder weapon," Grissom nodded. "Have we actually found anything more than a wheel?"

"No," Nick sighed. "Warrick and I went over the SUV and found nothing. There was nothing out at the lake either."

"Brass, let's get a warrant for Don Henson's apartment. If he's our killer, perhaps he took the murder weapon with him to get rid of."

"I'm on it," Brass nodded heading to the nearest phone.

"This kid's not exactly Einstein," Nick nodded. "Warrick and I'll head over there with Brass."

"I want in on this one," Grissom nodded. "Let me know when you've got the warrant. I want a piece of these guys."

"You got it," Nick nodded making his way back to the A/V lab. He needed to check on the ransom tape. "Archie, tell me you have something on that ransom tape," he said patting the man on the shoulder. The lab tech nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Man, you can't sneak up on me like that," he said taking off his headphones.

"Sorry, dude," Nick laughed. "Tell me you have something on that ransom tape."

"Yeah," the young man nodded flipping through a few disks before finding the one he wanted. "I was able to get a pretty good voice analysis. Using a couple different algorithms I was able to work through the cheap voice changer the guy used. This is what we've got," he said playing the tape for the CSI. "What do you think?" the tech asked.

"I think we've got Chris Eubanks," Nick smiled. "Thanks man. Can I take this with me?"

"Sure, no problem."

Nick rushed out of the A/V lab in time to catch Grissom before he headed into the DNA lab.

"Griss! I've got something for you," he smiled. "Check it out," he motioned leading Grissom into the man's office. He quickly rigged the media file player and prepared to play the tape for his supervisor.

"What is it Nick?"

"Archie was able to clear up the ransom note sent to the judge's cell phone. Check this out. This is the unaltered version of the message," he said playing the original message. "Now, this is the message after Archie cleared out the distortions," he smiled allowing the tape to continue its play.

"Sounds like our guy Chris Eubanks," Grissom grinned.

"I thought you'd like that," Nick grinned as Brass entered the office.

"Hey guys, I've got the warrant. Let's roll," he said holding up a piece of paper. "Where's Rick?"

"Here," the CSI said joining the group as they moved toward the parking lot. "Hey, Henson's DNA was a match."

"That was quick," Brass said.

"It was a priority," Nick nodded. "Let's go get our murder weapon," he said allowing Warrick to drive. He slid into the passenger seat of the Denali, while Brass and Grissom took the backseat.

The motley crew pulled up to Don Henson's apartment complex with fifteen minutes of leaving the crime lab. After locating the super, they had full access to the kid's apartment.

"Man, this place is a dive," Warrick shook his head as he pulled on his latex gloves.

"Guess he wasn't much for cleaning," Brass said inching his way into the apartment.

"We're looking for a skateboard," Grissom said from the doorway. In usual Grissom form, the man began to wander away from what was assumed to be their primary search zone.

Nick had already found his way into the bedroom. With his Maglite in hand, he commenced on a thorough search of the room.

"Hey Warrick, check this out," Nick called.

"A bloody shirt," Warrick said entering the room.

"What do you want to bet this blood matches the blood we found at Lake Mead?"

"I'd take that bet," Warrick smirked.

"I thought you gave that up years ago," Brass smiled entering the bedroom behind the CSI.

"Yeah," the CSI nodded as he watched Nick get on his hands and knees to search under the bed.

"Anything?" the detective asked.

"I've got some receipts, some food wrappers, dirty clothes," Nick rattled off. "Wait a second," he paused taking a closer look at a piece of crumpled up paper.

"What's that?" Brass asked.

"A receipt from Warner's Food Mart."

"The supermarket across from the skate park?" Brass asked.

"Yeah, looks like our boy bought a soda, some duck tape, and a pack of sunflower seeds," he grinned returning to a standing position.

"Hey guys!" Grissom called from outside. "You're gonna like what I've got."

Nick bagged the bloody shirt and sales receipt and followed Warrick and Brass to Grissom's location. Their supervisor was knee deep in the dumpster at the end of the row of apartments.

"Trash gets picked up every Monday," the man said.

"That's two days from now," Brass shrugged.

As if on cue, Grissom pulled out a bag and placed it on the ground in front of Nick and Warrick. He then jumped out of the dumpster and opened the bag revealing its contents.

"A roll of duck tape," Grissom started handing the tape to Warrick who then placed it in an evidence bag.

"And a skateboard," Nick said.

"And it's missing a wheel," Grissom nodded.

"So we've got our weapon," Warrick said. Was that a hint of a smile on the man's face?

"Let's get this back to the lab. We need to match the splinters from our vic's head wound and then print it. We need to be able to place this in Henson's hand," Grissom said.

"I'll get it to Hodges," Warrick said.

"Were you guys finished inside?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "I found a bloody shirt and a sales receipt that places Henson at the supermarket on the night of the murder."

"Let me guess," Grissom smiled. "He bought sunflower seeds?"

Nick smiled a sign of affirmation as the men packed up their gear and headed back to the Denali.

There was only one more question to be answered, Grissom thought to himself. It was on Nick's mind as well. How exactly does Christian Shroll play into all of this?

"We need to talk to Christian Shroll," Grissom said as Warrick started the vehicle and pulled away from the apartment.

"I'll bring him in," Brass nodded.

It was twelve thirty in the morning. With any luck this case would be closed by the end of shift. For now, it was time to give an early morning wake up call to the judge and his son.


	10. Chapter 10

**Note:** Here's the final chapter. Hopefully all your questions are answered. Again, thanks for the reviews! Good reviews are like chocolate...you can never get enough!  
I've got a new story in the works...hopefully I can start posting the first chapter(s) early next week!

Back at the crime lab, Nick busied himself comparing the roll of duck tape to the pieces of tape he recovered from Christian Shroll. The lab was unusually quiet. Hodges had gone on break leaving Nick alone to do his work. It didn't take long to make a positive match, roll to tape.

"Hey," Warrick said entering the lab.

"Hey, check this out," Nick said pointing to the scope.

"It's a match," Warrick nodded. "Get this, the prints I lifted from the board are a positive match to Don Henson," he said leaning against the counter. "I also got prints from Christian Shroll and Chris Eubanks."

"Well, we know it was Christian Shroll's board," Nick nodded.

"I still don't get it," Warrick shook his head. "Why go to all this trouble to kill one kid?"

"I don't know," Nick shrugged. "I've stopped questioning why people do things to each other."

"Hey guys," Grissom said from the door of the lab, "Brass is bringing in Christian Shroll."

"Alright," Nick nodded making sure his evidence was secured. He took off his lab coat and gloves and followed Grissom and Warrick to PD.

"How's the eye?" Brass asked the kid. Grissom, Nick, and Warrick observed from behind the two-way mirror.

Christian Shroll wasn't exactly forthcoming. It was going to take some work to get him to open up.

"Look, kid, we know what happened. So why don't you tell me, save me the trouble," Brass said taking a seat across the table from the kid.

"Detective, I don't know what you think you may have pinning my client to this crime," the boy's attorney spoke up, "but I can assure you of my client's innocence. He's a victim in this."

"Sure he is," Brass said glancing toward the two-way mirror. That was the signal.

"Hi, Christian," Grissom said entering the interrogation room. "I'm Gil Grissom. I work in the crime lab. What can you tell me about this?" he asked sliding the piece of paper they found on the boy's computer desk across the table.

The boy didn't respond.

"We found this piece of paper on your computer desk. We also found several e-mails sent by you to Chris Eubanks."

"They're on the same skate team," the lawyer responded.

"Yes," Grissom nodded. "There were also a few e-mails from an unknown sender. We were able to trace that address to Don Henson."

"He let's the team practice at Skate City," the attorney explained.

"The e-mails were very detailed in describing events to lure Jason Parks to Durango Hills Park. I think this piece of paper is information about when you were to meet up with Jason. See the J 7?" he pointed.

"You see, Christian," Brass spoke up. "We have reason to believe you played a part in the murder of Jason Parks."

"I think it was your job to get Jason to the park on Wednesday night. I think you met him around seven p.m. You guys practiced a couple hours," Grissom shrugged. "Around nine o'clock, though, you noticed Chris Eubanks' vehicle in the parking lot. That was your cue to get Jason to leave the park, wasn't it?" he asked. He wasn't expecting an answer. Christian's shifty eyes spoke volumes.

In the next interrogation room, Sgt. O'Riley sat with Don Henson. Nick entered the room and took a seat next to the man.

"How'd you cut your hand?" Nick asked.

"You don't have to answer that," the young man's attorney responded.

"Here's what I think," Nick smiled. "You wrestled Christian Shroll's skateboard away from him. You took them by surprise when you jumped down from the tree. You used that skateboard to kill Jason Parks."

"I didn't kill nobody," Henson responded angrily.

"Check with me before you speak," his attorney advised placing a hand on his client's arm. The boy had been un-handcuffed.

"You didn't expect it to be so hard, though, did you?" Nick asked leaning forward, his forearms on the table. "In the struggle to get the board from Christian, you knocked him out, cutting your hand in the process. You used the skateboard to hit Jason Parks over the head. One hit did the job. We didn't find any blood at the scene."

"That's a great story," the attorney spoke up. "You have nothing tying my client to this murder."

"We found wood splinters in the victim's wound. We were able to get DNA off those splinters and match it to you," Nick said sliding the test results over to the lawyer. "There were sunflower seed shells found at the base of the tree you hid in. Guess what? We got DNA off them too," Nick said a gleam in his eye.

"My client works with this skate team all the time. He does repairs on their skateboards; he lets them practice at all hours on his course. This evidence is circumstantial at best."

"We got a warrant to search your apartment," Nick nodded. "We found a bloody shirt in your room."

"Big deal," the lawyer said. "So he cut himself. He works with sharp tools."

"Cut yourself with a screwdriver did you?" O'Riley asked.

"The blood on your shirt matches blood we found at Lake Mead where we found the Eubanks' SUV. We also found your fingerprints in the vehicle."

"Look, unless you can place a weapon in my client's hand, I think we're done here," the lawyer stood up.

"Sit down," the detective said sternly a glare in his eye.

"We found the skateboard," Nick said, "and the duck tape. Your fingerprints were all over them. You know, that's the problem with murder," the CSI continued leaning back in his chair. "You spend all that time planning it out, but when it comes to cleaning up, you get sloppy," he finished gathering his papers and standing to join Grissom.

"Things got out of hand, though," Grissom was saying. "Don Henson used more force than you expected. You got knocked out in the struggle. When you woke up you were tied up in a shed at Lake Mead."

"Look, kid," Brass said. "If you start telling us the truth it can only help you. Right now, you're looking at a murder charge."

"I didn't _kill_ Jason," Christian said, panic rising in his voice. "Alright, alright," he said shifting in his seat. "The plan was to get Jason to the park and rough him up a little. You know, make it so he couldn't skate in the tournament."

"Things got out of hand?" Grissom asked.

"You could say that," the boy nodded. "Chris was the only one with access to a car. The plan was that Chris would drive and Don would take Jason. He was supposed to hide behind the tree and get Jason from behind."

"Only he wasn't behind the tree, was he?" Grissom asked. "He was _in_ it."

"Can we make a deal?" the boy's attorney asked, realizing there was no way out of the situation.

"That's up to the D.A," Brass said.

Grissom gathered his materials and stood to leave the room.

"I've got a question," Nick spoke up. "Why'd you do it? Why go to all this trouble?"

"I was tired of being second best. I worked my ass off to be the best, and Jason comes in and without breaking a sweat nails every trick," he said with a shrug.

"Well, congratulations, you're not second anymore. I guess your plan worked," Nick said opening the door to the interrogation room.

Don Henson would be charged with murder. Christian Shroll and Chris Eubanks charged with accessory. It never failed, once suspects were presented with the evidence, they always cracked.

Nick shook his head; all that work to be pushed up in the rankings. Was first place really worth killing a friend? It almost made him sick to think that to Christian Shroll it was.

It was coming up on the end of shift. Nick was tired; the case had taken a lot out of him. He made his way back to CSI and into the break room where he took up residence on the couch.

"Hey Nick," Grissom said, "Nick work," he smiled.

"Thanks," he sighed leaning his head back.

"Look, let's call it a day. I'm taking the team to breakfast," he smiled.

"You're on," Nick nodded rising from the couch.

The sun was coming up as he and Grissom walked to the diner just down the road from the crime lab. It was already getting warm, nearly 80 degrees at six a.m. It was going to be another hot summer day.

Grissom smiled to himself as he and Nick took their seats in the CSIs' regular booth. They were soon joined by Warrick, Catharine, Sara, and Greg.

"Hey guys, heard you closed the case," Sara said with a smile.

"Yeah," Nick nodded taking a sip of coffee.

The team spent the next hour and a half laughing with each other, letting the recent shift slip into memory. It was enough to relieve the tension that seemed to build with each case.

Nick relished the time he spent laughing with his team. It's one way he knew life was worth living. It was too bad Jason Parks' was cut short, he thought as he climbed into his truck and drove home. In twelve hours, he'd be back at it. Sleep would be good, it always was.

end


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